Spiritual Canticle

I BRIDE

Wither hast vanished,

Beloved, and hast left me full of woe,

And like the hart hast sped,

Wounding, ere thou didst go,

Thy love, who follow'd, crying, high and low?

Y shepherds, soon to be

Among these sheepcotes on the hillside high,

If ye perchance should see

Him that I love pass by,

Say to him that I suffer, grieve and die.

I'll seek my love straightway,

Over yon hills, down where yon streamlets flow.

To pluck no flowers I'll stay;

No fear of beast I'll Know;

Past mighty men, o'er frontier-grounds I'll go.

 

 

II QUESTION TO CREATURES

 

You forest, thicket, dene,

Which my beloved set in close array;

You meadow-land so green,

Spangled whit blossoms gay,

Tell me, oh tell me, has he pass'd your way?

 

 

III ANSWER OF THE CREATURES

 

Rare gifts he scattered

As through thes woods and groves he pass'd apace,

Turning, as on he sped,

And clothing every place

With loveliest reflection of his face.

 

 

IV BRIDE

 

O that my grieft would end!

Come, grant me thy fruition full and free!

And henceforth do thou send

No messenger to me,

For none but thou my comforter can be

The creatures, all around,

Speak of thy graces as I pass then by.

Each deals a deeper wound

And something in their cry

Leaves me so raptur'd that I fain would die

How do I still draw breath

Since'tis no life at all, this life I Know?

These arrow-wounds deal death,

That do torment me so

And with fair thougts of thee increase my woe.

Why piercedst thou this heart

And heal'dst it not upon the selfsame day?

Why usedst robbers'art

Yet leavest thus thy prey

And tak'st it not eternally away?

End thou my torments here,

Since none but thou can remedy my plight;

And to these eyes appear,

For thou art all their light

And save for thee I value not their sight.

Reveal thyself, I cry,

Yea, though the beauty of thy presence kill,

For sick with love am I,

And naught can cure my ill

Save only if of thee I have my fill.

O crystal spring so fair,

Might now within thy silvery deths appear,

E'en as I linger there,

Those featrues ever dear

Which on my soul I carry graven clear!

Withdraw thy gaze apart,

For, lol I soar aloft.

V SPOUSE

 

Return, my love!

See where the stricken hart

Looks from the hill above

What time he hears thy beating wings, my dove!

 

 

BRIDE

 

My love is as the hills,

The lonely valleys clad with forest-trees,

The rushing, sounding rills,

Strange isles in distant seas,

Lover-like whisperings, murmurs of the breeze.

My love es hus-of-night,

Is dawn's first breathings in the heav'n above,

Still music veil'd from sight,

Calm that can echoes move,

The feast that bring new strengh —the feast of love.

Now blooms our nuptial bed,

Safe-hid from men by lions'fortress-lair,

With royal purple spread,

Builded all free from care,

Crown'd with a thousand golden scutcheons rare.

Youths that adore thy name

Follow thy footprints, for they sorely pine

To feel thy touch of flame,

To taste thy spiced wine,

To be anointed with thy balm divine.

Within his secret store,

Of my beloved drank I deep indeed.

Remembering then no more,

I roam'd this fertile mead,

My flock forgotten which I used to feed.

There gave he me his breast,

There taught me sweetest science of his own.

And I myself confest

His only, his alone

Lavish'd my love upon him, keeping none.

My soul is well content

To serve her spouse whit al her wealth and night.

Her days of toil full-spent,

Her flock now lost to sight,

Love is her labour, love her sole delight.

So, should I ne'er again

Be seen or heard of the common-ground,

Say that roam'd in vain,

By bonds of true love bound,

That I was lost, and that I now am found.

Of flowers and emeralds green,

Gather'd at coolest dawn on summer lea

Garlands, my love, we'll glean,

That joy to bloom for thee:

Bound with one golden hair of mine they'll be.

That golden hair one day,

Thou saw'st as on my neck it lightly stray'd,

It bound thee then straigtway

A prisioner thou wert made,

And wounded by my glance that on thee play'd.

When thou on me didst gaze

Thine eyes forthwith imprinted of their grace;

Then Knew I love's ameze,

And bolden'd in that place,

Straigtway ador'd as I beheld thy face.

Ah, scorn me not, I pray,

For if, in truth, uncomely once was i,

Thy beauty came one day,

And cloth' my misery;

Look then on me, thus scrouded, as I cry.

Drive us the foxes hence,

For, seel our vine has come at last to flower,

The while with roses dense

We twine our nuptial bower,

Let none disturb our groves at this glad hour.

Begone, chill northern blast!

Wind from the south, that wakenest love, he ours!

Breathe in us, winter past,

The fragrance of thes bowes,

Where my beloved pastures'mid flowers.

VI SPOUSE

 

Her entry she has made

Into the long'd-for garden fair to sight.

Now rests she in its sahde,

With fullness of delight,

Secure in the embrace of tranquil might.

Beneath the apple-flower

To plight my truth to thee, my love, I came.

My hand in that same hour

Pled'g unto thee my name

In reparatin of thy mother's shame.

Birds as ye take your wing,

Lion and hart and skipping fallow-deer,

River as ye take your wing,

Lion and hart and skipping fallow-deer,

River-bank, valley, spring,

Heats, breezes, mountains sheer,

Things that chase sleep and fill the nights with fear.

By siren's sweetest song

And pleasant lyre, I conjure you to cease.

Let your tumultuous throng

No more assault our peace:

The Bride sahll find in sleep secure release.

 

 

VII  BRIDE

 

Daughters of Jewry, stay!

While choicest ambar-perfume doth invade

Rose-bowers and blossoms gay,

Rest in the outer glade

And come not to distrub our holy shade.

Ilide thee, my lover dear,

And lift thine eyes until the hills they see,

Speak not, for none will hear;

Lo, where they company

With her that roams strange islands far and free.

 

 

VIII   SPOUSE

 

See, where the milk-white dove

Bears to the ark the pledge of flood-freed ground.

And the comrade of her love

The turtle-dove has found

On verdant banks with psatures all around.

So she who dwelt alone

In loneliness again has built her nest,

Guide alone by one,

Upon her lonely quest,

Who, lonely too, by love was sorely prest.

IX BRIDE

 

Beloved, let us sing,

And in thy beauty see ourselves portray'd

Where purest waters spring

Rippling o'er hill and glade;

Then enter farther in the forest's shade.

Mount we at last on hig

Ev'n to the caverns of the rocky mine.

Enter we, thou and I,

Those secret haunts divine,

To drink of the pomegranate's ruddy wine.

There unto this thy dove

That which her soul has yearn'd for wilt thou show,

And there, dear life-of-love,

That blessing wilt bestow

Which once she has known and ever longs to Know.

The gendy moving air;

The sweetest song of Philomel the queen;

The forest wondrous fair

On a night of nights serene;

The flame consuming-fierce yet painless-keen.

None can behold us more

Not e'en the Arch-enemy can now appear

For the long, long siege is o'er

And the horsemen, halting here,

Dismount and gaze upon the water dear.

English translation: E. Allison-Peers [Ed. Borns Dates - London, 1947 ]

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